


Breath

by yeaka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drunkenness, F/M, M/M, Regret, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregory listens to Draco's wedding night woes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a one-prompt many-author contest on melusinahp's lj. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Draco’s drunk as fuck. He isn’t even sitting up properly—somewhere along the line, he’s slumped over onto Gregory’s shoulder. His dress robes are undone at the top and the Firewhiskey hangs in his hand: an opened wedding present. 

“I just wanted a kid, you know.” Draco lifts the bottle back up, and the stench is thick in Gregory’s nostrils. But he’s always been there for Draco, no matter how much of a mess it is. Draco’s been a mess since sixth year. When he drinks, he gets even more sullen, and the starlight through the railing of the gazebo backlights him gorgeously. Beautiful and broken, all at once. “...She’s pregnant.”

Gregory figured as much. He isn’t the best man for nothing. Draco’s never particularly _nice_ to anyone, but there’s a hint of hatred in his eyes when he looks at his girlfriend—no, wife. 

Gregory’s never been good with words. He keeps his insight to himself, and he listens to Draco drawl grumpily, “I don’t love her. I don’t even like her. Fuck being a pureblood. You know, Muggles can adopt. Don’t even have to fuck a woman. Not fair. I haven’t even... haven’t even...”

He breaks off with a choked sort of sound. He’s strangely coherent, and he takes another swig. Gregory’s breath is caught in his throat. This is a subject they never touch, even if there were signs, even if Gregory suspected...

“I mean—it’d suck worse, wouldn’t it?” Draco turns his head on Gregory’s shoulder, looking up at Gregory with big, unfocused grey eyes. “Even if I don’t love her, it’d be worse to never be a father, so I made the right choice, didn’t I?” When Gregory’s still quiet, Draco adds in earnest, slipping more into his usual tones, “Damnit, you’re supposed to be my best man! Tell me I made the right choice!”

As always, Gregory says exactly what Draco wants him to. “You made the right choice. ...And you’ll be a good father.”

“I’ll die full of regret.”

Gregory doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. Draco seems to be waiting for him to counter, so Gregory eventually grunts, “Nah.”

Draco grumbles, “You’re fucking useless,” and shifts himself off Gregory’s shoulder. He straightens out and slumps back down a moment later, looking frazzled and despondent. If Gregory’s honest with himself, he’s not sure he’s ever seen anything more pathetic. Gregory sighs; they’re too old for all this agony. 

Draco probably won’t remember anything in the morning. Gregory tells himself this as he re-angles his chair, wincing at the loud scraping sound it cuts through the night. Brows knitting together, Draco opens his mouth as if to ask what’s happening.

Gregory tries to say something. He doesn’t care if Draco’s married. He knows Draco’s gay. Maybe it’s not the right choice, but he probably would’ve had more regrets if he never had a child; Malfoys are all about family.

Instead, Gregory says nothing, and he leans forward to press his lips to Draco’s.


End file.
